


Raoul in Disarray

by orphan_account



Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms, Phantom of the Opera - Lloyd Webber
Genre: Angst, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Suicide Attempt, Why Did I Write This?, au where Erik doesn’t fall in love with Christine, referenced meg x christine, so basically none of the events in canon happen, vent fic? Or do i just like punishing my favourite characters?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-16 12:35:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28582089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Christine runs away with Meg, and Raoul doesn’t cope too well.TW for a rather graphic suicide attempt.
Relationships: Raoul de Chagny & Erik | Phantom of the Opera
Kudos: 4





	Raoul in Disarray

**Author's Note:**

> Warning, THIS FIC MAY BE TRIGGERING. Please do not read it if you have had issues with suicidal thoughts or actions.   
> (Also anyone with a fear of blood may not wish to continue) 
> 
> Also, this is the first fanfic that I’ve ever shared! Please be nice lmao, but I’d love polite criticism. I’m sorry this is so dark and pretty short, but I wrote it at 4am because ya girls got insomnia because of her depressi spaghetti. I did NOT proofread this, so it might not even make sense. I’m sorry for making you read this! I may or may not add a second chapter, it depends if yall like it. Enjoy! Or don’t, this fic is truly a mess.  
> Also I have no idea how to post things on here, I probably did something wrong 😂

Curled up against the stone parapet of the roof, Raoul looked around at the place that had once held his fondest memories. It was here that, on an evening so starkly different to this one, Christine had sworn that she would love him and keep him by her side always. One could almost laugh at the mess that had become reality instead- his fiancée having run off to Scandinavia in the night with a silly little ballet girl, and Raoul on the roof. A penknife in hand.  
It seemed odd, really, to kill oneself on a rooftop instead of just jumping off. But he couldn’t put the Opera Populaire, a place he had come to associate so much with Christine, through such a scandal. Still, it wasn’t as though finding a vicomte dead in the snow with slit wrists was exactly desirable.  
Surely people would wonder how one could throw away a life so perfect as that of a vicomte- Raoul was young and handsome and enjoyed a lavish lifestyle. But a life such as this lacks purpose. He was simply a pretty ornament whose only job was upholding the de Chagny name. Oh, how he hoped his siblings would forgive him for the trouble he was to cause them. He'd always been close to them and, at least with himself dead, his wealth would be returned to them by way of apology for disgracing the family in such a shocking way.  
It was with this thought that Raoul placed his left arm in his lap and rolled up the sleeve of his shirt. He looked at the blue and purple veins under the surface for a moment, almost having second thoughts, before pressing it to his wrist and drawing it toward him. Warm blood soon came rushing to the surface, though it lost is not-quite-comforting heat almost immediately as it trickled steadily out. He made a similar cut on his opposite wrist, albeit a great deal more clumsily, and shifted so that he was laying down. The pain would have surely been immense had Raoul's limbs not turned numb with cold. Through bleary eyes, he noticed that the snow surrounding him was turning as red as the blood seeping into it, and he hoped that the poor soul who was to find his body would not be too affected by the sight. His eyes fluttered shut, and he only then became aware of how cold he really was. It occurred to him that it may have been more pleasant to take his life in the warm, or at least wearing more layers. Oh well, at least the cold may help to kill him faster. The Vicomte's grip on consciousness soon deserted him, and he was unaware of the masked figure who ran to him and carried him inside.

**Author's Note:**

> I’m sorry for posting this garbage, yall.


End file.
